


you, my favourite tradition

by smugdensmitchell



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Christmas, Fluff, I hope this is okay!!!!, M/M, Traditions, Tumblr, ballum - Freeform, ballum-fic-wishes, ben x callum, callum x ben, festive, for the anon on tumblr who wanted festive ballum, they are the softest, unfilled prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 19:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20980904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smugdensmitchell/pseuds/smugdensmitchell
Summary: Festive!Ballum - Four times Callum takes part in Ben's Christmas traditions, and one time they make their own.





	you, my favourite tradition

**Author's Note:**

> **Quick Note:** Sheanu was _never_ a thing according to the timeline of this fic...not that it's relevant in any way, but Sharon is mentioned and I didn't want y'all to think Phil would stay with her after that LMAO. She was never pregnant. It _didn't_ happen. 
> 
>   
**Actual notes at the end of the fic!!!**

**1.**

“You ain’t gonna do that to me, Callum. I _know_ you ain’t gonna do that to me,” Ben’s gaze darts chaotically between the Monopoly board on the floor and his boyfriend. “You know I always get the blue ones Callum, plea—”

“I think I’ll have that property please, Kathy,” Callum says, grinning at her, then at Ben, in true smug form. 

Ben drags his hands over his face, groaning in despair. “No, no, no, no, NO!” he looks at Callum, the taller man knowing he’d be six feet under if looks could kill. “Why would you do that to me? _Why_ would you do that to me?” 

“Don’t take it personal, it’s just business,” Callum remarks with a wink, and Ian slaps him on the back with pride.

“Impressive, Callum,” he says, obviously relishing in his younger brother’s defeat. “Didn’t know you ‘ad it in ya!” 

Callum dashes a wide smile in Ian’s direction, gathering together his paper money. “Neither did I, until now.” 

He takes the property card from a very bemused Kathy, poking his tongue out fondly at Ben, who meets his gaze with narrowed eyes. 

“Okay Bobby you’re up!” Ian says, ruffling a hand in his son’s hair and earning him a grumble of “get off, Dad” in return. The roll of the dice is interrupted as the doorbell sounds, Kathy jumping to her feet excitedly.

“Must be the pizza!” She exclaims, hurrying to the door and nudging Ian on the way to volunteer him as payee. He follows begrudgingly, Bobby not far behind having complained that he was _‘starving’_ for the past forty minutes. 

With the others in the kitchen, nothing but the opening of boxes and the clattering of plates to distract them, Ben leans toward his boyfriend.

“_You,_” he whispers, pointing accusingly, “will pay for that.” 

Callum smirks. “I look forward to it,” he mouths back, capturing Ben’s lips eagerly, and he can’t help but smile into the kiss.

Maybe he was wrong, he thought, reflecting on the moment Ben had proposed the idea earlier in the day. Maybe Christmas Eve Monopoly _was_ his thing after all.

**2.**

“Are you _sure_ Lex won’t mind me coming?” Callum asks, his gaze set nervously on the dashboard. “Y’know what kids are like.” 

“Yeah, I do know. But she ain’t just any kid, Callum, she’s my _daughter_,” Ben says, his tone comforting, cutting off the ignition as they arrive at Lola’s. He notices the other man’s fingers tapping restlessly against his leg, so he reaches out his own hand in reassurance.

“You mean a lot to me, Callum,” he says, his thumb drawing faint circles on his boyfriend’s palm. “So that means you mean a lot to _her_, too.” 

Callum meets his gaze, smiling coyly at the softness in Ben’s tone. “Okay.” 

“_Okay_ as in…?” 

“_Okay_ as in _go and get her_. I’ll wait in the car.” 

Ben grins, pecking him quickly on the lips. “Don’t you dare drive off,” he says, and Callum crosses his heart in jest, but with obvious sincerity. 

When Ben sits an excitable Lexi in the back of the car, she looks at Callum intently, a mixture of confusion and curiosity sketched across her features. 

At first, she doesn’t actually speak to him directly, rather asking Ben “how long until we get to Santa?” in a hundred different ways. 

Eventually, she diverts her attention to Callum, who has been nothing short of silent in the front seat, never wanting to impose. “Are you coming to keep Daddy company?” she asks him, her eyes wide with the trusting faith of a child. 

Callum clears his throat, looking to Ben as if he were asking for permission to respond. He gets a reassuring smile in return. 

“Yeah, I...I am. If that’s okay with you, Lexi?” 

His eyes dart over to the rearview mirror, anxious to see her expression. 

“I’m glad,” she states, and Callum lets out a breath of relief that he didn’t even know he was holding. “Last year daddy spent longer talking to Santa than I did.” 

Callum nearly chokes on the air, raising his eyebrows at the man in the driving seat. “Oh,” he smirks. 

“Errr that is _not_ true!” Ben exclaims, a noticeable hot flush tinting the pigment of his cheeks. “It ain’t what it sounds like,” he adds on the end for Callum’s sake. 

“Well I ain’t gonna let that happen this year, Lex, I promise,” Callum says, side-eyeing his other half suspiciously and growing in confidence as a result of her welcoming nature. _And her mocking of Ben, of course._

“Pinky promise?” she asks endearingly, stretching her little hand over the shoulder of the passenger seat. 

Callum turns as much as possible in the restrictions of his seatbelt, hooking his little finger with hers. The size difference makes him smile fondly, and he hopes this is the start of something for him. _She means a lot to Ben_, he thinks, mirroring his boyfriend’s words from earlier. _So she means a lot to me._

“Pinky promise.” 

**3.**

Ben tries not to be _too_ wounded by the look of sheer relief on Lola’s face when he shows up at the Vic with Callum in tow. 

“Thank God he convinced ya to come, Callum!” she says, jumping up to greet them both with a hug. “We need some brains on the team.” 

“'Excuse me?” Ben says indignantly, pulling out a stool to sit down. “I bring enough brains for the pair of us, thanks very _much!_” 

Callum smirks at Lola as she rolls her eyes. “Couldn’t resist the opportunity to see this one in _that_ could I?” He gestures to the jumper that Ben is sporting, a monstrous green knit with a nose for Rudolph that jingles everytime he moves an inch. 

“It’s tradition for the quiz, Callum!” he remarks defensively. “You said it weren’t that bad!” 

“Yeah well it ain’t that _good_ either, mate,” Jay chips in with a grimace, returning from the toilets. “I’ll get the drinks in, what we all ‘avin?” 

_______ 

“Alright, next question!” Mick’s voice hollers from behind the bar, and the four halt their conversation to listen in. “August 1990 saw 100,000 Iraqi troops invade **which** neighbouring state, sparking off the first Gulf War?”

Muffled commotion breaks out amongst the teams in the pub, and Mick starts to repeat the question. “August 1990 saw...”

Jay looks at Callum hopefully, giving a light punch to his arm. “Come on mate, you should know this one, you was in the army!” 

Ben nearly spits out a mouthful of his pint as his boyfriend’s brow furrows. “Is he for real?” Callum says, looking at Lola. 

She sniggers behind the answer paper, but her face soon falls serious when she sees the look on Callum’s face, trying her level best to suppress a smile. “Don’t look at me,” she dismisses, holding her hands up innocently. 

“Leave him alone Jay, alright?” Ben points waywardly at his friend, his coordination evidently compromised by alcohol. “You was only a chef weren’t you, babes?” Ben grins, grabbing the tinsel from the back of Jay’s chair and hooking it round Callum’s neck. 

Callum backs away, his expression more irritated than he really felt, but he can’t help the small smile that appears when he looks at his adorably bemused boyfriend. Of course, he still pushes Ben off gently, rejecting the tinsel with a grumble of “get that stuff away from me”, but when Ben pouts, he drops him a quick kiss on the lips. Just because he can. 

And _that_ was more of a prize to him than winning a pub quiz could ever be. 

**4.**

For their first Christmas together, Ben didn’t even mention the fact that Sharon was throwing a Boxing Day _thing_ at the Mitchell household. He’d only been official with Callum for just short of two months, the last thing he wanted was to startle him back _straight_ by having him spend an evening in Phil’s company. 

Of course, the following year, he was fairly confident that they were solid enough to handle it. **Together.** “We only have to show our faces. Thirty minutes, an hour _tops_. Sharon won’t let me live it down, otherwise,” Ben had promised, reassuring an anxious Callum. 

Six beers and three tequila shots later, Ben was practically carrying him away from the karaoke machine with Jay. 

“Why ain’t you drunk like me?” Callum had slurred, his arm slung around his boyfriend. 

“Cause I ain’t a _lightweight_ like you,” Ben had joked back, not letting on that he hadn’t touched a drop all night, just to make sure he was sober enough to take care of Callum, if needs be. 

The plan for this Boxing Day was arranged in line with prior years, and Callum had been all set to go, his nerves a lot less shot than they had been the year before. Regardless, when it dawned on the pair that Ben’s stomach bug wasn’t shifting, it hadn’t crossed Ben’s mind that Callum would still offer to go. 

“You don’t have to ya know?” Ben says, reaching up from his slumber on the couch and scratching gently underneath Callum’s chin with his thumb. “I mean, no one would blame you if ya didn’t.” 

“I know but I--I want to,” Callum reassures, and Ben gives him a look. “Okay, maybe _want_ is a bit of a stretch but...well, it’s nice of ‘em to still ask me, innit? I wanna make the effort.” 

Ben gives him a fond smile, in awe of the kindness of the other man’s heart, but simultaneously baffled by it. “Who’s gonna walk you home if you get in the same state as last year, ey?” 

“I’m sure I’ll find a nice fella to be of service,” Callum grins cheekily, earning him a prod in the stomach from Ben. 

“Don’t you dare,” he says sternly, but contentment is written all over his face. “Have fun. Don’t miss me too much.” 

“Soft,” Callum smiles, kissing him on the forehead. “You too.”

_______

Ben never did go up to bed, feeling it was the safer option to stay put on the couch, a bucket lumbered beside him in case he couldn’t make it to the toilet. 

He hadn’t been sick much more since Callum had left, but the nauseating feeling returns temporarily when he is startled awake by an aggressive knock on the door. 

It persists without a break, and Ben grows agitated. “Alright, I’m coming!” he yells, clutching pitifully at his stomach as he feels around for the key on the kitchen top. When he swings open the door, he’s welcomed by the sight of his _highly intoxicated_ boyfriend being held up by no other than Phil. 

Ben bites his bottom lip apologetically, trying to suppress a laugh. “Is he alright?” 

“M’fine,” Callum mumbles, staring at the floor and gripping Phil’s arm for support. “Tried to walk on my own but…” 

“But he nearly got mowed down in the process,” Phil adds flatly, getting Callum up the front step and through the door. He stumbles into the counter, almost taking the toaster down with him. 

“How much have you ‘ad to drink?” Ben muses. “Where the hell is Jay?” 

“Had a really good night, Mr Mitchell,” Callum slurs, swerving Ben’s question entirely, and his dad’s face softens slightly. _Only slightly_. 

“It’s Phil, ‘alfway. Just call me Phil.” He shoots Ben a despairing look. “He’s all yours.” 

Ben clears his throat as his dad starts to walk off. “Thanks, by the way, for...,” he says awkwardly, scratching at the back of his head. He’s careful not to engage in too much affectionate conversation, and Phil turns to look at him. 

“He’s...uh...he’s good for you.”

Ben smiles sincerely, closing the door. _He is,_ Ben thinks. _He really is._

**5.**

"What you doin' out here, bruv?" Stuart says, leaning against the wall and observing his brother. "Ain't you got a _hubby_ to be dancin' with now?" 

Callum is sitting on the bench outside of the Vic, his hands clasped together to prevent them being taken under by the cold. He's staring intently at the band on his fourth finger, the silver glistening under the glow of the Christmas lights in the Square. "Still don't feel real." 

"What? You marryin' a Mitchell?" Stuart grins mischievously, nudging Callum along so he can sit down beside him. "I can hardly believe it myself."

"Be nice," Callum warns with a smile. "That _Mitchell_ is your brother in law, now." 

"Lucky me," Stuart remarks, punching a fist of mock celebration in the air. A hesitant silence follows. "He makes you 'appy though, bruv. And that makes _me_ 'appy." 

Callum glances up at him, kicking himself mentally for the tears threatening to fall. "I am," he murmurs. "Didn't know it was possible to be this happy." 

The older man pauses, scratching his eye thoughtfully. No, nervously. Perhaps _both._ He rests a hand on Callum's knee, giving it a light squeeze of encouragement, but they both seem unsure of what to say next. Callum is grateful when they're interrupted, _hearing_ his husband before he actually sets eyes on him. 

"I'm comin' back Lo," he shouts. "Nah, I won't be long, I'm just looking for--" Ben wanders out of the pub, stopping in his tracks when he spies Callum. "There you are," he smiles. 

"I'll leave you to it, bruv," Stuart says quietly, freeing up the space for Ben to sit down. "I'll er...see you both in there." 

He brushes past Ben with a friendly tap on the shoulder, who perches himself next to Callum. 

"I've been looking for ya," he starts, the cold sharpness of the air outlining his breath. "Figured you might, y'know, want a bit of space." 

Callum's sure that his heart could burst at the compassion and understanding Ben demonstrates, not just now, but always. "Yeah. It's all a bit..." 

"Overwhelming?" Ben cuts in, finishing Callum's sentence with a smile. 

He nods in response, resting his head against the shorter man's shoulder. "Mmm," he whispers. "_That._" 

"Christmases always are," Ben muses, covering Callum's clasped hands with one of his own. "Good day, though?" 

Callum hums in agreement, smiling with heart-warming sincerity. "The best." 

They sit in comfortable silence, neither noticing the cold in one another's warmth. "Just can't believe we done it on Christmas Day," Ben remarks through the quiet. "Every single anniversary surrounded by those _muppets._" His head gestures towards the pub, referencing their family and friends. 

"Well," Callum says, standing up and pulling Ben with him, their hands still very much intertwined. "We'll just have to make the most of the other 364 days a year, won't we?" 

He wraps his arms around the other man's middle, pulling him in closer.

"I guess so," Ben smiles against his mouth, kissing him amidst the freezing cold outdoors. 

And of all the festive traditions he'd ever known, to love Callum Highway, like this, would be his _forever_ favourite.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovely people!!! 
> 
> So _basically,_ I wrote this for the ballum-fic-wishes Tumblr account, on which a lovely anon asked for some festive Ballum!!! I think this was inspired by Max saying that they were "trying to do the things that boyfriends do" - *sobs*. 
> 
> So, to the wonderful individual behind the blog, and the _other_ wonderful individual behind the request, I reallyreallyreally hope you like this. 
> 
> All the love xx
> 
> **NB:** I'm smugdensmitchell on Tumblr and @smugdenmitchell on Twitter - come say hello :)


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